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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645904">the tale: a prologue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryladytype/pseuds/literaryladytype'>literaryladytype</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Old Days [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lumberjanes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, prologue to "old days" which is my voice au fic, roanokes and zodiacs are camp counselors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:48:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryladytype/pseuds/literaryladytype</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail knows when the story started, but the forest still isn't ready for her to tell her tale.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abigail/Rosie (Lumberjanes), April &amp; Jo (Lumberjanes), Jo/Hes (Lumberjanes), Mal Yoo/Molly (Lumberjanes), Molly &amp; Jo (Lumberjanes), Molly &amp; Ripley (Lumberjanes)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Old Days [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. rise again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Abigail knows when the story changes. </p><p>When it went from a blazing hot summer, bright and blurred adrenaline filled, bloodthirsty glory days to a heart wrenching free fall, lurches and lurches down as she slept outside the tent under the unforgiving night. Abigail knew when the story started to unravel. </p><p>When the wood reached and found the way the tale was turning and reared its head and sent fiery breaths back.</p><p>It burned around them. It still does sometimes, lately it’s rising in that choked feeling in her throat, like a match burning down too quick to her fingers. </p><p>But Abigail is on a kayak, resting between limbs of trees as Rosie calls, her sweet, strong voice shaking and pleading and asks her to tell her<em> what happened please </em> because something has gone wrong again and <em> it won’t be the last </em> and Abigail squeezes her eyes shut and whispers something, and Rosie says <em> what? </em> and Abigail says <em> I will </em>and tells the story, finally. </p><p>Finally.</p><p> </p><p>She found the words some time ago.</p><p>She wrote them out like this.</p><p>She found a pretentious fountain pen and an untouched leather bound journal up in her attic from a leatherworking badge, official Lumberjanes instructions attached proudly and yellowing. </p><p>Because if you’re going to say it, you better do it right.</p><p> </p><p>And she did. She carried the book around for a good while, tucked in a satchel and wrote down what she remembered and sewed it up with saccharine metaphor for what she didn’t, a labyrinthine patchwork.</p><p>So Rosie asks and she finally relents.</p><p>She lets out a haggard little laugh and says it like this. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I felt it when the story changed.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That cold night after the trip on Glory Mountain.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When it went from...  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And there is a space between people. </p><p>We send out messages and scribble figures and figments and hope we get a response back, that someone catches the same light we did and it clicks into place, a mind meld, but things get lost along the way. </p><p>There is a space between people.</p><p>There’s Abigail on the water, her fingers tracing the branches that are holding her close, so she doesn’t go off with the current, so she can make this call steadily. There’s the static between them. There’s the sorry handful of cell towers that work out here, fickle and far.</p><p>There’s the gaping forest between them, that hasn’t decided yet if it’s time yet to tell this story. There’s Rosie, at her desk, windows drawn and door locked shut, pulling too hard at a hangnail, a childhood nervous habit revived by circumstance. </p><p> </p><p>Abigail tells a tale, haltingly, the only way she’s figured out how, the best way she has, and Rosie says<em> Abby I don’t understand </em> and it’s a punch to the gut, quiet, swift, hard. </p><p> </p><p>Somehow, she swears she feels the forest smirk. </p><p>She only feels the branches creeping when it’s too late, they poise to swallow her whole and she promises, promises. </p><p>
  <em> I’ll find a way to tell you. And I won’t go when it rises again. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. gay rights & summer nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Molly and her camper talk about internalized lesbophobia on their way to a campfire.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>During the second week of working as Lumberjanes councilors as a summer job at Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s camp for hardcore lady types, Molly and Jo hike with their cabins to the field where Jen’s lecture on constellations is held. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was dark enough to make a few scattered scouts carry flashlights, running around and inevitably blinding each other but easy enough for your eyes to adjust with the full moon in the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly hangs behind as Jo leads their cabins at the front, pushing a wheelbarrow that April packed to the brim with donuts, traditional smore supplies, as well as some more interesting additions, and potato chips, apples, granola bars, industrial sized trail mix, a part of a birthday cake, and little notes about allergens and which foods were kosher and halal and vegetarian options on each. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She squinted in the moonlight as she pushed the wheelbarrow, trying to read a pun April scribbled on the ziploc bag in a loopy pink gel pen, and bumped into something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard a sound of shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, Jamie I didn’t mean to hit you, I’m sorry!” Molly apologizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,”the scout squeaked. “Sorry, I’m fine, I just- it’s fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Molly responded, as they started to walk together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned. She liked Jamie, but the kid had been skittish lately, seemingly afraid of saying the wrong thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Molly missed their impromptu rants about Mitski's albums that used to populate her cabin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Jamie started, pulling on their jacket drawstrings. “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something? I know that’s probably a frightening thing to hear the kid you’re supposed to take care of say, in like a dark forest too, I mean it’s already ominous enough on it’s own, but I promise I’m not like secretly a werewolf, not gonna like suck your blood or something, it’s not that dark of a secret I just… I just think I might be a- a lesbian?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Molly said, smiling, something clicking. “Oh. That’s really cool, Jamie! Like, thank you for telling me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, um, no problem?” They blurted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that’s okay, right?” Molly said, as casually as she could muster. “It’s okay if you think you might be a lesbian, it’s a really, well. It can be hard, but it’s a really great community and like…” Molly trailed off, her facing heating up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She was so bad at this. She was bad at this and she was the first person this kid came out to, why did they pick her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, um. I thought I knew that? Like when I came out as nonbinary, and like starting using she/they, I went online and made friends with some lesbians in this one like, fandom server and I was so cool with it when that was them, and I love my dad’s two great aunts, I would never think about them differently, but, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie trailed off, sounding teary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But when it’s you,” Molly says gently, putting a comforting hand on their shoulder, “you can’t really handle it. And all the lesbophobic things being said around you, your brain starts saying them, and it makes it hard to breathe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah,” she says quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly stops the cart, and Jamie sits down against a tree. It’s fine, Jo trusts them, she won’t worry too much if they’re only 5 minutes behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Molly says gently. “Hey Jam. What- what do you think would help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I don’t know,” she says, muffled as she’s pulled the drawstrings so much the hoodie envelopes their head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly pats her on the shoulder again, at a loss, but the kid leans into it, forming a half hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I came out last year as a lesbian,” Molly started awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Obviously. The kid didn’t come to her solely for good advice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Stop it, she tells the voice in her head. Push down every thought that isn’t useful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It took me a long time to just like, get used to the word. I love it, but. It can be scary, there’s a lot of baggage sometimes…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Get back on track, Powell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it gets easier, it really does! And you’re not alone in it at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie releases her hoodie cocoon, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. What. What made it easier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly considers this, and then has to stop herself from laughing. She facepalms at the terrible memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, ha, um, my friends mostly, but also, well, ha, never mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Jamie says, their face returning to normal just a smidge, curious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- We should go, do you really wanna leave everyone without s’mores?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Jamie pesters, a grin sprouting on their face like a Cheshire Cat that </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> makes it worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> But no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s gonna die with this secret, so, no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let me be a mysterious cool camp counselor. Keep my secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie starts to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my Lillian Faderman, Molly, you are not mysterious. Your favorite Mitski song is Strawberry Blonde. And you only like it because it’s been co-opted by cottagecore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,”Molly says, laughing harder. “Wow, Jams. Harsh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get up and I’ll push the dumb wheelbarrow if you tell me what it is,” Jamie says in a sing-songy voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, how nice of you,” Molly says sarcastically. Molly stands up from her spot by the tree and reaches a hand to help pull them up, but the kid </span>
  <em>
    <span>raises an eyebrow at her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, waiting for the story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, this job does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> pay well enough, Jen was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Jen was also right when she said Molly would be exhausted all the time but have the most rewarding job experience she could have and do some real work to teach young hardcore lady types about nature and openmindedness, curiousity and empathy, etc, etc, etc, bottom line: Jen is always right.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,”Molly relents, regretting it immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie jumps up, skipping over to the wheelbarrow. (Theatre kids, Molly makes a note, are terrifying.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first person I came out to was bubbles,” Molly starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamie, uh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly takes down her raccoon hat, and strokes the side. There’s a chirp and Bubbles wakes up, and starts walking on the path with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Molly. Were you ever going to tell us that your hat is a live raccoon?”Jamie all but yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought everyone knew?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No, we did not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name is bubbles! He’s harmless!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if he has rabies? Oh my god, what if you have rabies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t!” Molly defends, rolling her eyes. She forgot Jamie’s a city kid, well, there’s a pretty steep learning curve here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been friends for three summers, so, I’m pretty sure I would’ve already gotten rabies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not comforting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t die from rabies.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Molly chuckles. They walk quietly for a bit until Jamie finally cuts in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, like. Is that your whole story? You told a raccoon you were a lesbian and then you became friends and you stopped having internalized homophobia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly can’t help herself, she starts laughing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” she corrects. “I came out to bubbles, and then I came out to a pine tree, and then a maple, and then a chipmunk, and then the lesbian ducks that like to hang out by the swimming dock, and. Yeah. I just did that until the word stopped feeling like such a loaded gun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> weird,” Jamie giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey now, that was a story from my heart!” Molly laughed along. “And all the best people are weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamie seems to consider this, until Molly realizes she’s just trying to sneak a marshmallow from the bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This job does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> pay well enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets it go, April packed a whole marshmallow army.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should try it, you know!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting a contraband pet raccoon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jamie. Just saying it, sometime, when you’re alone. Just try out the words and see if they get easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if they don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then they don’t, and you find some new ones. Or you decide you don’t want a label, but, cross that bridge when you come to it? It could help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll think about it,” Jamie says through a marshmallow in their mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!! They get a marshmallow and we don’t? You just leave us in the dust?” A strangely familiar voice says, and Molly jumps and Jamie half shrieks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, I scared you!” Ripley says, peeking out from behind a tree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rip, you gotta stop doing that, bud,” Molly says, shaken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry! I love you! But you were taking years to get here and you have ALL of the snacks!” Ripley reasons, taking the wheelbarrow not so deftly from Jamie and pushing it up the path as fast as they could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So weird,” Jamie laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, be nice!” Molly reminds them as they finally reach the field with the other cabin groups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Jamie says, genuinely. “Um. Thank you, Molly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Literally my job, Jams!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s such a terrible camp nickname.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Teenagers</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So ungrateful,” Molly says, layering on the sarcasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you eighteen?” Jamie says and they laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Point taken. Go over to Jen and tell her you were late because you were helping me with snacks, she’ll help you make your star chart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fiiine”, Jamie says, and she skips over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly feels a hand on her shoulder and jumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s just me,” Mal says, and Molly softens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s that kid that kidnapped you and the snacks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really didn’t think this would be such a big deal? Ripley already gave me the 3rd degree and I bet April’s all-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mol, no, I’m not serious, I just- just missed you, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly’s heart hurts a bit, a bit in a good way, and she moves in to kiss her and Mal returns it, surprised, smiling so much it almost breaks the kiss, and when Molly realizes what she’s doing she starts to smile too (I made her </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy, I made her that </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>) and it falls apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mal laughs so hard her stomach hurts and Molly blushes, and blushes and blushes and she can’t believe she’s this lucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you Molly!” Ripley calls from the campfire, happily through a mouth of chocolate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not- I don’t think I need to be forgiven for you stealing the wheelbarrow?” She retorts to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say!?” Ripley calls back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just talking about how amazing all my friends are!” Molly shouts back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because they are, and she’s here, finally, the two week mark when this place stops feeling like a daydream, and she’s happy to be here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And nothing can go wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. starstruck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>i give you a little bit of gay rights before diving headfirst into the voice au eldritch forest angst</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hes doesn’t know why she’s here. </p><p>She really doesn’t. </p><p>Hes is standing tall at the campfire, exchanging glances with Barney, trying to get something from them before going to one of the most frightening conversations of her life. </p><p>She peers at them.</p><p>What is she looking for, some reassurance?</p><p>No. No, she doesn’t need reassurances, she’s fine. </p><p>She’s… god, what a mess, Hes thinks, head in her hands. </p><p>Barney stops loading up the entire tree branch April carried to the fire with marshmallows (a terrible idea, someone should tell Jen, it definitely goes against five out of eight Lumberjanes fire safety guidelines) and they put a comforting hand on Hes’s shoulder. </p><p>“You got this, Hes. You’re our fearless leader!”</p><p>“Hm. Yeah,”she mutters, but she schools her face into the determined expression her Gran says women in her family use to move mountains-she’s never been quite sure how literal that goes- and walks over to the camper benches. </p><p>A flock of wide eyed tween horse girls (horse hardcore lady types?) stare up at her strangely, and she scratches the back of her neck, remembering some middle school memories with these kind of girls that didn’t end in campfires and kumbaya. </p><p>Come on, Hes. She clears her throat.</p><p>“So do y’all know about Jeremy?”</p><p> </p><p>Hes is beautiful to watch when she sets her mind to something, Jo thinks, unpromptedly, and then starts to reach her hand up to her mouth, like she’s said it out loud and can’t quite believe it came out. </p><p>Hes is standing around the campfire, lit up like she’s telling ghost stories, tugging on her stim bracelet, except she’s explaining to that clique of girls who were intensely disappointed that camp didn't have a horseback riding program that they could get…</p><p><em>Wait, </em> is she saying that they could get just as rewarding an experience out of learning how to ride a moose?</p><p>Shit, Jo never touched the horseback riding classes her dads always wanted her to do, and even she knows that’s a hard sell. </p><p>The way Hes describes it, though, it makes it sound like the logical conclusion. She talks about how she learned to ride Jeremy, how it was a good emotional release, the adventures she went on with him, and it’s cute, Jo realizes, it’s not just cute, it’s mesmerizing-</p><p> </p><p>“Jo,” a familiar voice sings, snapping her out of it.</p><p>“Oh, um, hi,” she jumps, turning to look at April who has a disturbingly cheshire grin, the fire reflecting off her eyes terrifyingly.</p><p>“I’ve been calling you for a while now.”</p><p>“Uh sorry, distracted,” Jo blushes, and dang it to Lynn Conway, sees all her privacy go up in smoke in a matter of minutes. </p><p>A awkward pause follows, until April blurts:</p><p>“Starstruck by a certain someone, perhaps?”</p><p>Jo facepalms.</p><p>“<em> Geez </em>, April.”</p><p>“You know, you’ve said that our whole lives and it’s never quite worked out for you.”<br/>Jo groans.</p><p>“C’mon, let me have this, you never have crushes!”</p><p>“Yeah, what an inconvenience me being demiromantic must be,” Jo jokes.</p><p>“Not inconvenient, young Jo-”</p><p>“I’m eight months older than you-</p><p>“It’s like a meteorological anomaly, beautiful and strange, occurring in one burst of light in a hundred years… ” April waxes dramatically, and Jo has to stop herself from laughing.</p><p>“Especially when this one is so <em> star </em>-crossed,” she says, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.</p><p>“April, keep your filthy filthy pun hands out of my love life, I’m begging you.”</p><p>“It’s just so <em> easy </em> though and it’s so <em> fun-” </em> <em><br/></em>“You just could’ve made a pun there about Mal and Mol, leave me aloneeeeee-”</p><p>April perks up, starts to ask what the pun she made was.</p><p>“I’m not telling you what it was, that’s on you,” Jo teases.</p><p>“This is cruel, Josephine, cruel and unusual…” </p><p>April runs her fingers on her rings like she does when she gets really focused, and snaps up a minute later.</p><p>“Meteorological ano-mally! You’re a genius,” she says, giving Jo a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>“Nice, now go bother them, they’re being gross and adorable.”</p><p>“I just may, Josephine, I just may.”</p><p>Jo tries to hide her relief until… </p><p>“But don't think I’m not coming back to your enemies to lovers romance later,” April sings, grabbing a handful of marshmallows as she skips away.</p><p> </p><p>Ten minutes later, as she's folding together a s'more at the picnic table, Jo’s phone lights up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>raccoon mother :pine tree: :sparkly heart:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> april attacked us with puns of your doing </em>
</p><p>
  <em> i feel so betrayed </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jo types back, laughing.</p><p><em>sry, it’s every woman for herself out here </em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>raccoon mother :pine tree: :sparkly heart:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> i’ll forgive you if you have your cabin host the sci-fi book club this week </em>
</p><p>
  <em> my cabin’s a disaster and i think one of my camper’s cooking would give us all food poisoning </em>
</p><p>
  <em> no joke </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jo responds:</p><p>
  <em> “i’d love to but we can’t, still in a war with dartmoor, there would be literal bloodshed </em>
</p><p>
  <em> gotta be on neutral terf”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>raccoon mother :pine tree: :sparkly heart:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> still? it’s been a week </em>
</p><p>
  <em>i thought tweens were supposed to have short attention spans /j</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jo grimaces.</p><p>
  <em> “hahahahahaha. *no.*”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>raccoon mother :pine tree: :sparkly heart:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> stay strong &lt;3 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> you should talk to hes! me and mal can mediate or w/e  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“We’re not allowed to have our phones out at work,” a voice says, annoyed. Jo looks up at Hes, who’s glaring at her. “It’s-”</p><p>“Rule 4a on the counselor handbook,” they say in unison, looking back at each other, a little surprised. </p><p>“I know. I was just talking to Molly about what cabin was-”</p><p>Hes sits down on the other side of the picnic table, and Jo’s eyebrows raise.</p><p>“Was hosting the sci-fi book club.”</p><p>“It’s their turn, what is there to talk about?”</p><p>“Her cabin’s just a bit of a mess so she was wondering if I could do it, word of advice don’t eat the snacks they give you…”</p><p>Hes has a worry wrinkle on her face that creases. </p><p>“You probably shouldn’t do it, my kids would flip.”<br/>“Yeah, that’s what I told her. Their cabin is a much needed Switzerland.”</p><p>Hes smiles a bit at the joke, which makes Jo light up stupidly.</p><p>They don't know what to say for a bit, so Jo starts:</p><p>“I saw you talking to those campers, it sounded like you did a really good job,” Jo says.</p><p>“Oh,” Hes says, looking a little caught. “I hope so, thanks.”<br/>“You were! You’re really good at talking to kids,” Jo affirms, starting to blush and glad for the relative dark.</p><p>“Yeah, all the campers except my own,” Hes laughs a little, drily.</p><p>“We should talk about the whole thing,” Jo says gently.</p><p>“Yeah, we need some diplomacy… I always just, assumed I would be good at this? My gran has been taking me with her to different summer camps since I was old enough to talk. I always thought being a good counselor would come naturally, and if it doesn’t, what does that say about me-”</p><p>“Okay, hold your horses. Remember how you single handedly ran your cabin when you were, oh right, fifteen?”</p><p>“Vanessa was… sort of there?”</p><p>“Vanessa was possessed by the voice for 90% of the summer and we all knew it.”</p><p>“Damn, okay,” Hes laughs.</p><p>“That was a lot of pressure to put on you, and unfair and definitely broke some laws but- but you were so good. You’ve always been, like, terrifyingly capable. You make us all look bad,” Jo tries to be gentle but bites her lip as she realizes how much she’s rambling, how obvious she is.</p><p>“Oh Sojourner Truth, did I peak at fifteen?” Hes winces.</p><p>“No,” Jo rushes to correct herself. “That’s not what I meant, of course not. I don’t even think peaking is a thing.”<br/>“Spoken like someone who graduated from college at 18,” Hes says bleakly.</p><p>“Wow, that stings,” Jo laughs.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry. I’m not a good person right now.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jo says quietly.</p><p>“Sweet talker,” Hes replies, and Jo’s heart twists.</p><p>“I think Chole and Freddie should mediate a conversation,”Jo blurts. “They’re both levelheaded, have some social skills, and they aren’t at the heart of the fight. If they talked to both sides and worked out an agreement, I think they could...”</p><p>“Give peace a chance?”<br/>“Sure,” Jo smiles.</p><p>“That’s smart. I’ll talk to Chloe, you talk to Freddie, and then explain to the whole group tonight?”</p><p>“Thanks, yeah! My cabin has dish duty after breakfast but then we have a free block, would that work?”<br/>“Yeah,’ Hes says, then adding, “oh, but Kayla wanted to do friendship bracelets then, but I can talk to her.”<br/>“Oh actually, I have a pretty good stash of pride flag colored embroidery thread, I could give her some? Like a peace offering,” Jo says, hearing how earnest it sounds and wincing a little.</p><p>“That’s genius, actually. You’re kind of her role model, you know, I’m pretty sure she’d hug you so tight you’d burst.”<br/>Jo smiles so wide it hurts, and she starts tugging on her jacket drawstrings. </p><p>“Wait, really?”<br/>“Yeah, of course! She said she’d never met another trans girl in real life before, she only realized she was a girl because she’d read about it, and that you were so cool and super smart- it’s really sweet, she likes you a lot… Jo, you okay?”<br/>“Yeah! I’m just tearing up a little? This is weird, sorry,” Jo breathes in, trying to tamper down some emotions as y <em> ou’re kind of her role model </em> loops happily in her head.</p><p>Hes holds her hand, supportively, flirting? Jo can’t tell and it definitely doesn’t help her calm down.</p><p>“It’s not weird,” Hes comforts her. “We all have those moments. Well I mean, I’ve been surrounded by a group of diverse queer hardcore lady types since the age of two so I don’t, but. I’ve seen a lot of people cry about it so it’s not like you’re <em> alone- </em> I’m gonna stop talking now.”</p><p>Jo laughs so hard she shakes.</p><p>“We should talk about Juniper and Ashley though, because they had a pinecone battle at the lighthouse nature hike and are not going to come easily.”</p><p>“Ashley ambushed them, that was self-defense,” Jo chuckles.</p><p>“Fair, but Juniper hit her in the<em> face </em>.”</p><p>‘Oh yeah, that was ugly.”</p><p>They go on like that, back and forth, discussing strategy, comforting each other when they get overwhelmed, until Hes starts to remember why she loves this place, sometimes so much that she feels like it's a religion, like someone's handed her the matches back to light the altar candles.</p><p>But she feels it, the forest, how it's growing restless, all these small, fragile kids running under her feet and prays her hands won't shake, her grasp of the flame won't slip.</p><p>Prays that this will not be the year it all goes up in smoke.</p>
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